Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Cameroon and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Aswad to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Bobby Sherman,
The Stooges,
Brick,
Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fugazi,
Fatback Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Bar-Kays,
Danielle Patucci,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Maurizio,
The Durutti Column,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Interpol,
Television,
James White and The Blacks,
The Birthday Party,
June of 44,
Albert Ayler,
Nils Olav,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Sonics,
Mandrill,
Crispian St. Peters,
Urselle,
Zapp,
Barry Ungar,
The Cure,
Joy Division,
Jacob Miller,
These Immortal Souls,
The Residents,
Kas Product,
Thee Headcoats,
The Techniques,
Metal Thangz,
The Remains,
Carl Craig,
Trumans Water,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
CMW,
Crispy Ambulance,
Neu!,
Ultra Naté,
Angry Samoans,
Qualms,
Eden Ahbez,
Goldenarms,
Mad Mike,
Cameo,
Ituana,
Laurel Aitken,
Can,
Kenny Larkin,
Joe Smooth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.